forgottenroisin

[forgottenroisin]

I love you pre-Autumn. I love you first chilly night after a hot day. I love you first crunchy leaves on the ground while the trees are still green. I love cicadas. I love you crickets. I love you dusk sneaking in earlier for the first time. I love you deep sigh of relief after summer.

[forgottenroisin]

Roisin's Tournament Event Attire

disclaimer that these are all visuala aids and meant to suggest more or less what was going on if you medieval-ize and then astairan-ized it!! <3

DAY ONE: the joust

except in more ~emerald tones than ~olive...

DAY ONE EVENING ATTIRE

for the event event, rosie donned this

bearing roses and snowdrops as well as ivy and oak leaves on the top and the palest hint of buttery yellow beneath white in a rather daring silhouette (given that most ppl are dressing roughly a la the 1200s re silhouettes) but rosie has always been one to push the fashion envelope (and, since she was able to suddenly buy a very great deal of fabric, she was loathe to cut it or dye it yet so she could more easily use it for another project later, instead she could just fold and fold and fold and simply add easily removable stitches here and there). her hair was knotted into a messy braided bun in the back

DAY TWO: melee (on foot)

ok so picture this floor-length gown with the soft blue parts in emerald green, instead:

why, yes, this ~was pieced together using scraps from other projects! the white lace depicts oak leaves btw <3

her hair is done like this w the grenery as ivy and oak leaves and the floral element a rose:

DAY TWO EVENING ATTIRE

rosie's rocking this little number (rosie's own thematically autumnal colors mingling with lorcan ones you'llnote...) and the hair done that way but w the live-greens-and-florals headpiece from earlier still intact there

DAY THREE: melee (ahorse)

rosie wore a teal veil like this, covering her from head to toe:

the veil flows to the floor and, with its deep teal color, rosie paired it with an orange gown in order to produce a gown that appeared emerald green, so that she need not dye it

her hair she wore loose and flowing

DAY THREE EVENING ATTIRE

in the evening, she wore this:

hair flowing free and loose

DAY FOUR: archery

this is a winter gown that she pulled out bc of the color and added more embroidery for this event (and yes it was horribly hot but also it was the requested emerald green already and dying is a whole. thing. and she only had so much time and loads of gowns to get through!) with her hair done like so:

DAY FOUR EVENING ATTIRE

keeping her hair as above, for the evening, rosie wore this:

DAY FIVE: team melee

the chording she wore as jewelry? yeah that came off one of the beds which had curtains tied back with it...

DAY FIVE EVENING ATTIRE

as per usual, rosie's rocking a tiny bit of rebellion bc, while valentina required emerald green for the day time in order to present a unified front, rosie's subtly reminding everyone who her mother ~really is at valentina's own gala with a blush of lorcan pink to her gown. the lace work depicts snowdrops, acorns, and ivy. she's let her hair down for the evening, wearing it like this, with a few snowdrops and ivy worked into the underside of the loose braidlet

[forgottenroisin]

alskjfksdfajklsdjf BHAHAHAH cillian's reaction cracked me up lajsdfjlkdsf nooo but kdajlsfajkdsf ughhh!!!! the parallelism of lord malconaire and a potential lord (consort) malconaire tho SOB!!!! but also it literally meaning 'son of oak' like...maybe that was grandmother eithne's meaning in naming him like sure his papa might be from the goth bat house <3 but this kid's malconaire through and through <3 tho idk if that woulda been necessary frankly i don't feel like astaira had any hangups abt that sorta thing...

anyway i ~did look up 'child of oak' according to goggle translate its "leanbh darach" and according to google ai its either '"leanbh darach" or or "cailleach na dealrach" (male or female)' both being worrying sources...who can say lakjsdfkjlsdf

so here's what we get when i used the advanced search feature in behind the name searching for any irish tree/oak/woods related names:

Darach m Irish Means "of oak" in Irish, from the genitive case of dair.

Daragh m Irish Anglicized form of Dáire or Darach.

Darragh m Irish Anglicized form of Dáire or Darach.

Eoghan m Irish, Irish Mythology Possibly means "born from the yew tree", from Old Irish eó "yew" and the suffix gan "born". Alternatively, it might be derived from the Latin name Eugenius. It was borne by several legendary or semi-legendary Irish figures, including a son of the king Niall of the Nine Hostages.

Íomhar m Irish Irish form of Ivor.

Ivor m Irish, Scottish, Welsh, English (British) From the Old Norse name Ívarr, which was probably derived from the elements ýr "yew tree, bow" and herr "army, warrior". During the Middle Ages it was brought to Britain by Scandinavian settlers and invaders, and it was adopted in Ireland (Irish Íomhar), Scotland (Scottish Gaelic Iomhar) and Wales (Welsh Ifor).

Macdara m Irish, Old Irish Means "son of oak" in Irish. This was the name of a 6th-century saint from Connemara.

Owen 2 m Irish Anglicized form of Eoghan.

Rowan m & f Irish, English (Modern) Anglicized form of the Irish name Ruadhán. As an English name, it can also be derived from the surname Rowan, itself derived from the Irish given name. It could also be given in reference to the rowan tree, a word of Old Norse origin (coincidentally sharing the same Indo-European root meaning "red" with the Irish name).

EDIT (accidentally hit post smdh)

ronan, after seeing him w aoife: sebastian! your days are numbered!!

roderick: *slaps sebastian the next day*

ronan: am i witch? did i curse him????

jk jk but yeah frankly ronan ~does have it out for him now alkjsdfkjsdjfk

but yesssss i defff think godfrey issss gona be all 'hi hello resistance it is i...ur secret helper this whole time!' asp!!! klajsdfkjsdf

OOC | Witches of the Wood

so kate the great and i went kinda nuts in disco and i thought i should record it here to make it searchable for when we inevitably are scratching our heads tryna remember what we said...

note (smth i meant to say at the time and just realized while posting this that i ~didn't say): re godfrey's interest in uncle lonan, i think its partially bc of his seemingly addled state??? like, if he asked ~brigit for example 'hey what'll happen if i incite the apocalypse?' or whatever she'd be able to be like 'yo this guy's thinking abt inciting the apocalypse' whereas lonan is more likely to try to warn ppl saying smth like 'lo! the moon shall devour the earth as the forsaken spring from their prison' or whatever and sure that's godfrey's sigil ~and plan but like????? itll certainly take a lot more time for ppl to puzzle out the intricacies of ~that one than brigit's alksdjfkdsf also also ngl i like the opportunity for godfrey to ~get advice he misinterprets MUAHAHAHAHAA

(esp bc she does ~know and ~trust most of the resistance members ~anyway...)

ive hit the ~only 30 images allowed per post thing right as ive come to the end of what we said!

kate aa:

Oh ngl I defffff had it on my head that she was!!!! And like she’d pick foggy days so they’re hidden and have rebels climb the trees and shriek and moan and hurl things etc to spook any varmont troops who might be nearby and like circulate villagers to send their best storyteller to hang out to the tavern where the most varmonts hang out and tell the scariest stories ~abt the guardians and witches — she has a v ‘if they fear us, let them. We’ll make the most of it’ kinda pov I think after all that. So spin the ghastliest takes from of old and tell some new ones too as if they’re real, really stoke their fears. Use props and effects just like she used to on Cassimir for effect like Blackbeard using smoke and fires to create an image that ppl still fear today. I also think she probs believes she’s the last living malconaire and she’s def like ‘of us all — why me??’ But she takes her duty srsly so she’s gonna use everything she’s got and I def don’t think she has a ~ton in common w commander Lorcan but the ability to use perception abd the unexpected to her advantage? She’s got that in spades!

annnnd imma reblog this in a sec to respond to the bits i left unanswered above <3

[forgottenroisin]

OOC | Witches of the Wood

so kate the great and i went kinda nuts in disco and i thought i should record it here to make it searchable for when we inevitably are scratching our heads tryna remember what we said...

note (smth i meant to say at the time and just realized while posting this that i ~didn't say): re godfrey's interest in uncle lonan, i think its partially bc of his seemingly addled state??? like, if he asked ~brigit for example 'hey what'll happen if i incite the apocalypse?' or whatever she'd be able to be like 'yo this guy's thinking abt inciting the apocalypse' whereas lonan is more likely to try to warn ppl saying smth like 'lo! the moon shall devour the earth as the forsaken spring from their prison' or whatever and sure that's godfrey's sigil ~and plan but like????? itll certainly take a lot more time for ppl to puzzle out the intricacies of ~that one than brigit's alksdjfkdsf also also ngl i like the opportunity for godfrey to ~get advice he misinterprets MUAHAHAHAHAA

(esp bc she does ~know and ~trust most of the resistance members ~anyway...)

ive hit the ~only 30 images allowed per post thing right as ive come to the end of what we said!

kate aa:

Oh ngl I defffff had it on my head that she was!!!! And like she’d pick foggy days so they’re hidden and have rebels climb the trees and shriek and moan and hurl things etc to spook any varmont troops who might be nearby and like circulate villagers to send their best storyteller to hang out to the tavern where the most varmonts hang out and tell the scariest stories ~abt the guardians and witches — she has a v ‘if they fear us, let them. We’ll make the most of it’ kinda pov I think after all that. So spin the ghastliest takes from of old and tell some new ones too as if they’re real, really stoke their fears. Use props and effects just like she used to on Cassimir for effect like Blackbeard using smoke and fires to create an image that ppl still fear today. I also think she probs believes she’s the last living malconaire and she’s def like ‘of us all — why me??’ But she takes her duty srsly so she’s gonna use everything she’s got and I def don’t think she has a ~ton in common w commander Lorcan but the ability to use perception abd the unexpected to her advantage? She’s got that in spades!

annnnd imma reblog this in a sec to respond to the bits i left unanswered above <3

[forgottenroisin]

OOC | Uncle Malconaire

so i grabbed this from disco...

Kate the Great — 11:20 AM

I do feel like hermit uncle COULD be an interesting plot point in the attempt to regain malconaire from Valentina And in their wood witches era

kate aa — 11:22 AMthat's kinda what i was thinking too! like he's kinda the potential answer to cassimir in a way? bc if worse comes to worse im sure he'd be MORE than happy to be the figurehead through whom eithne rules, he doesn't ~want to rule and she's his rightful ruler anywhere and yeah!!

[11:22 AM]but maybe they think he's dead, hence not bringing him out before? maybe they meet him again when they flee into the woods following the witches of the wood thing???

Kate the Great — 11:28 AM

Do you think he might not be a malconaire by name? Like he took Goth Grandpas last name instead of malconaire, since it was actually grandma eithne who was the ruler?

kate aa — 11:29 AMoooooooh i like that!! that could ~also be part of it like only bran's line is a candidate to rule malconaire bc of that?

[11:30 AM](part of why they haven't pulled him into this, that is...)

Kate the Great — 11:31 AM

Yes!!! Or maybe he wasn’t hiding out in malconaire but in the fens? Or even up around kil kennar? (Bc bats like caves in mountains ig???) so they THOUGHT he probably died when he hadn’t reemerged after everything?1 [11:31 AM]Is he possibly even named in the OG will but it’s never been a factor because they assumed he died during the war?!

kate aa — 11:32 AMthat could def be a way for the will aoife has to become relevant re roderick's reign too!!

Kate the Great — 11:33 AMDo you think if he shows up and promises to fill in all the potholes, Rodrick will let him run malconaire?

kate aa — 11:33 AMbc roderick would respect that that dude is a man w a better claim than cassimir in that case!

@kate aabc roderick would respect that that dude is a man w a better claim than cassimir in that case!

Kate the Great — 11:34 AMThe additional drama could come from Roderick not understanding that brothers who are of the same parents CAN have two different surnames in Astaira

kate aa — 11:34 AMpotentially! lakjsdkjfdsf tho ngl there is ~also the potentially that he's sooo fed up w all this malconaire drama atp that he's like here edmund you conquered this place it should've been urs all along etc and the in-court squabble for malconaire we're foreshadowed begins...or maybe the uncle reappearing kinda...settles that? idk

Kate the Great The additional drama could come from Roderick not understanding that brothers who are of the same parents CAN have two different surnames in Astaira

kate aa — 11:35 AMliterally everything about astaira custom built to confuse roderick i swear lkajsdlfkjjdksf i love it hahaha

Kate the Great — 11:36 AM

Also if he appears the question becomes does he even WANT to come back? Like that’s a wild family dynamic of finding the one person who could potentially save you but he won’t do it

kate aa — 11:37 AM

klsjfklsdjfakljsdjkfljdksf and honestly!! i don't think that ~is what he wants for his life like!!! the dude literally chose to go live alone in the wilds just caring for animals and making potions and avoiding ppl like???? man is noT cut out for ruling and he knows it

Kate the Great — 11:38 AMWaaaait IS HE A SEER TOO

kate aa — 11:38 AMbut also when its smth this extreme like ??? isn't it for. better good!

ohhhh i thought he was! maybe not tho?

Kate the Great — 11:39 AM

I feel like he should be!!

kate aa — 11:43 AM

i feel like he's (hermit malconaire uncle) a seer whose like...really powerful but in the sense that he's not fully connected to the material world like you meet him and he seems far away and dreamy all the time and muttering nonsese half of it and its just bc he's sooooo so tuned into the spirit world and can't ever fully tune out

Kate the Great — 11:43 AMEee! Omg I love that idea honestly! So maybe he’s not even been tuned on enough to understand what’s happening?

Eee! Omg I love that idea honestly! So maybe he’s not even been tuned on enough to understand what’s happening?

kate aa — 11:44 AMoooooh omgggggg oh and omg oh noooo does he know abt bran in that case????

Kate the Great — 11:45 AM

Omg maybe not?! If he’s been so secluded he might have no idea?!

[forgottenroisin]

[forgottenroisin]

Aoife/Rosie - “ what did you want to tell me? ”

"I...I have a secret, Aoife," whispered Rosie. She took her sister's hand in her own, ran her other hand over it, eyes determinedly downcast. Her elder sister had always been the secret keeper, even when they were younger, even when Rosie had been her voice. Now, it seemed a strange perversion of reality that Rosie should bear a secret which it was Aoife's turn not to know.

It had been a fortnight since Edmund's awful news about the Battle of Malconaire, but now, with the tournament at an end Valentina's awful celebration coming to its close, Rosie found she could bear it no longer. She'd had a plan, of course. She was going to see Edmund tonight at this wretched occasion and, when she did, she was going to take him aside and ask him to explain everything. She'd been too overcome to take it all in, the last time, and begging him to stop speaking, she'd fled into the woods. She owed it to him to hear the explanation. She owed it to her sisters to tell them all, armed with full knowledge. But instead, having been cornered first by his father and second by his mother, with no Edmund in sight, Rosie had retreated up to her room, where she sat now. She'd been roused, she didn't know how much later, by a knock. Aoife had come to check on her. She sat, now, at her side.

She'd meant to tell her sisters all together, too, and the Frosts as well, but she couldn't hold it in, any longer, even with so many gaps in the telling. She couldn't. It was pressing too hard. She wanted to say it, wanted to feel the words spill out of her mouth. Maybe then the hurt would go with them, out, out of her body, and she could run. Run far away from this all with her duty done. Leave it all behind. She could go to Lorcan, deliver their mother's portrait to their cousin. She could stay awhile. And she wouldn't have to be reminded that it had been Edmund who had ruined their lives: damaging their home, delivering them into Vasilieva power, ruining the chances of their people, and killing their father all in one, fell swoop. Every single time she walked out her door and saw the wide swaths of destruction along the beloved countryside, or heard Valentina's shrill voice giving another reprehensible order, she thought of it. She had to leave here. She had to go to Lorcan. Or further. Somewhere, somewhere, she could escape it...Surely.

"Rosie? What did you want to tell me?"

Slowly, Rosie lifted her head to look at her sister. There was no judgement or impatience or irritation in Aoife's look. Only love and maybe, maybe an edge of concern. Rosie wasn't blind to the fact that they were all worried for her. Try as she might, these past two weeks, she hadn't been able to completely mask her devestation. She'd blamed it on illness, but they knew. She was sure they knew. There was something wrong.

"I...I know who commanded the Varmont troops in the battle here," said Rosie.

Aoife's eyes widened and despite herself, Rosie choked out a laugh, patting her sister's hand.

"Weren't expecting me to say that, were you?"

Still, Aoife was quick, and Rosie swallowed hard, watching her mind work. Rosie felt the smile, even grim as it was, dying on her own face. Aoife already knew what Rosie was going to say. Her sister shook her head. "It wasn't--"

Rosie stood suddenly, pulling her hands free as she went, to wrap her arms around herself as she began to pace. The tears were there, again, pricking painful at her eyes till they felt full and swollen, but she refused to shed them. Her throat was a great lump and, desperate, she sucked a deep breath in. It turned to a sob.

"Rosie!" cried Aoife, jumping to her feet.

She shook her head, stepped back. If Aoife touched her, she knew she would begin weeping. She had no wish to weep. She shook her head, and then she couldn't hold them back, tears running, salty, down her face. Furious, she brushed at her face, shaking her head.

"Rosie--"

"Edmund! It was Edmund! It was Edmund who did it! He--he killed Papa, Aoife! He killed him! How could I ever--"

"Rosie--"

"And, and he destroyed our home, laid waste to the village, to everyone's lives and livelihood! He let Valentina and Cassimir take control! He was the one who, who caused all of this, Aoife! It was him! Edmund!...And he used our grandfather's strategies to do it. Oh, imagine how Papa must've felt when he realized what trap he'd fallen into, the most awful reminder of Mama delivered in the cruelest way at the very end, it's horrible, I can't, I--" she leaned forward into her hands, unable to speak around her tears, shoulders racked with painful sobs.

For a moment he stood where she was. She'd expected to feel better when she said it. Instead, she felt sick. Her head, even her bones, ached and a wave of nausea rode over her. Her lungs were painful amidst her weeping. She couldn't draw a breath. Rosie flopped back down onto the bed where she'd been sitting just a moment before.

Aoife sat down again, more slowly. "Maybe there's a mistake, Rosie, maybe--"

"No! There's none!" Rosie pressed her hand hard to her abdomen, pushing to speak. She shook her head, momentarily suppressing the tears. She had to get this out. "He told me this, himself."

And that was the final nail. She lay back amongst her pillows, and gave in to her sorrow.

[forgottenroisin]

The Ancient Arms of House Básdorcha

aka ye olde bat signal

Azure (blue): truth and loyalty

Argent (white/silver): peace and sincerity

Sable (black): constancy, grief

Bat: awareness of the powers of darkness and chaos; watchfulness

Moon: serene power over mundane actions; serenity

ok so ngl i largely made this for a joke bc...i wanted to know what the bat signal would look like in sigil format (it did not disappoint!!!!) <3 but also it was fun <33333 but!!!!!! while mocking this up, i also noticed that the site i use added new (and largely celtic-inspired! bc its meant to be ~pseudo-arthurian) sigils we can play with! fun fact: one included a tree which (i haven't gotten a good look at it yet so withholding judgment but...) may look better than the one i mocked up for malconaire way back when!) but also gives us more room to noodle on further crests that simply weren't available to us before! eeeee! <3 (must check if a snail and/or frog has been added...)

also, if we fr do wanna do a bat house <3 some inspo for where bats hang out re: natural habitats aka potentially figuring out where in our world the bat house might be located...

you can find diff types of bat in all parts of the world (the only places you don't see bats are the arctic and extreme deserts! so other than that we could literally make them from ~anywhere)! but forests and wetlands are esp popular places for them, and they like to roost in caves/crevices and trees...but esp oak trees! <3 (me: did the og lady eithne have a goth bf, perhaps? ;D) heehee anyway!! just food for thought <33333

[forgottenroisin]

THE HOUSE OF MALCONAIRE AS THE QUEENS OF TAROT

eithne malconaire as QUEEN OF PENTACLES (nurting, big-hearted, down to earth, resourceful, trustworthy/indfference, disappointment, loss)

brigit malconaire as QUEEN OF SWORDS (honest, astute, forthright, witty, experienced/cynical, distant, sharp-tongued)

aoife malconaire as QUEEN OF CUPS (loving, tender-hearted, intuitive, psychic, spiritual/mysticism, darkness, insecurity)

roisin malconaire as QUEEN OF WANDS (attractive, wholehearted, energetic, cheerful, self-assured/aggressive, selfish, insecure)

[forgottenroisin]

trees are very 🥺 because sometimes i’ll stand under the shade of a tree and look up at it and it’ll sway its branches about in the wind and i’m like oh my God i’m alive and YOU’RE alive. we are alive together and made up of the same starry stuff and standing right next to each other in this moment on this earth. do u feel it when i reach out and press my hand to your trunk? can you hear me? i think you’re so neat. and then the sunlight filters through its leaves just so and that lovely green color leaves me dazzled. it’s just very nice to be an alive thing next to a different sort of alive thing

[forgottenroisin]

the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.

[forgottenroisin]

Jo March, Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig

[forgottenroisin]

[forgottenroisin]

EMILY CAREY as ALICENT HIGHTOWER | House of the Dragon S1E5

[forgottenroisin]

Who Is He? | Roisin & Brigit

"Brigit!" hissed Rosie, catching her hand as her sister slipped onto the grounds, and pulling her away into a little nearby grove where they could speak in privacy.

It was the first time she'd felt real happiness in days, spotting that familiar piece on Bran O'Connor, and knowing it could only be there as a symbol of Brigit's happiness. Rosie had long hoped that her sister and Cillian might form a lasting attachment but, when that had failed, Rosie -- who believed true happiness could onl be found in true love -- had begun to despair of Brigit ever finding such a love. She'd done her best to introduce her to anyone who she thought might strike her fancy, of course, but such candidates were few and far between, and none had ever seemed to intrigue her in the least. In truth, she'd begun to despair of Brigit ever finding such a love...but then she'd seen the favor on Bran O'Connor, and some strange joy had wormed its way into her heart -- Brigit had perhaps at long last found her happiness!

Gloriously happy for her sister, in truth, Rosie also felt a strange gratitude to Brigit, just now. She'd had nothing to truly distract her for too long, and thinking obsessively about all that Edmund had told her was the very last thing on earth she wanted, particularly with battle -- even mock battle -- breaking out all around them. It had felt the whole time like some cruel mockery.

But this! This was truly joyous -- and truly shocking, as well! Though never quite giving up, Rosie had had despaired of her sister ever finding someone to suit her, and now to find not only that she had, but also that he was someone entirely unknown to any of them? The mystery had proven distracting in the extreme!

But first...it might have been some mistake...First, she had to find out...

"Did you know...did you know that young man out at the lists today, the champion...Did you realize he had your favor?"

Excitement overcame her. At once, she clasped Brigit's other hand as well, squeezed them. "Oh, Brigit, can it be so? Have you finally found someone you really like? Oh, I'm so happy for you! It's just what I'd always hoped! He must be a most extraordinary fellow to have captured your stubborn heart!" But she did not wish to make Brigit uncomfortable, and so she turned to humor. "I am relieved, I confess: now, perhaps I won't have to watch you wed Cormac Calleary, after all." Rosie winked.

"But come! Tell me everything!" Her hand went to her mouth. "He has Papa's name," she breathed and, all at once, tears sprang to her eyes as she remembered...She shoved the thought away. "But, Brigit, how do you know him? And...how long, and...Oh! Brigit, who is he?"

[forgottenroisin]

The Archer | Roisin & Aoife

Day three. It seemed impossible that this tournament could roll on and on and on so, but roll onward it did. Everyday they woke, dressed, watched a volley of men attack one another on what Rosie saw as grey, dusty fields. Everyday they feasted on what tasted to Rosie flavorless flesh. Everyday the crowd clamored and cheered. And every night Rosie dreamed of her father's death. She remembered the words Cillian had told her, how he'd held himself, the half-held back horror in his eyes.

She felt cold. The first days of spring streamed warm, dancing light. But she was all gooseflesh, chilled as the last time they'd attended a Varmont event: chilled as the tomb. They'd buried her father in the streaming sunlight, filtered amongst the branches of sheltering trees. He lay beside her mother, amongst a haven of twittering birdsong and waving white lilies. But wherever his bones may lay, he was gone. She would never again know his warmth, his voice, his arms locked around her. She could never ask his advice or make him laugh. She would never see his smile.

The clamor of the lists was the din of war in which he'd fallen -- the shriek of metal on metal; the screams from the cloud; the bellows and cries of the warriors, injured and fallen. Rosie could hardly look. She leaned forward against the beam before her for support. Once, she'd dreamed of such events -- what color and excitement and, oh, the simple romance of it from favors to trophies to knights in shining silver and brilliant liveries. Now she saw what lay beneath. It was all dressing up the horrors of war, acting it out as if beneath their feet were not buried thousands of its rotting casualties.

But today? Today was different. Today no one stood in the line of fire, and her heart beat easier. Dressed all in green, at her stepmother's request, she sat back, her hands folded into her lap. Edmund was on the field, and pointedly, she did not watch him. Or tried not to. She couldn't look at him yet. But her eyes betrayed her. Some strange part of her still hoped he did well -- she knew too well how he'd feel to be publically shamed and she still couldn't wish that pain on him but...some part of her wished she could...and that, in turn, made her feel guilty. But she shouldn't feel guilty! He'd used her grandfather to destroy her father! To destroy them all! And he'd hidden it from her! Was it all some bitter joke? Was he laughing at them, all the while? Her heart pounded. Her eyes ached. She thought of the peaceful yard where her parents lay unmoving. They would never again know joy. How could that be because of someone who'd so often made her laugh? It was too cruel to think. Had she really known him at all? She couldn't breathe. Her nails bit into her skin. No. No, she couldn't think of that. Not now. Not now or she'd think again of--of her father and...

She looked away again, studied on each of the other archers lined up. Focused. It wasn't important what they each wore, but she needed to seal out every other thought, so she drank in each detail...until something, something she had not expected to see by any means caught her eye.

Leaning over to Aoife, seated beside her, Rosie gripped her hand. "Aoife...is that...is that young man wearing Brigit's favor?!"